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by makesometime



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family Reunions, Major character death not shown but implied, Not even kidding don't read further if you've not finished all of the main story bits, Spoilers for the end of the game and by the end of the game I mean the whole Gates of Atlantis bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 18:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: At the end of it all, Kassandra finds her place once more.





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**Author's Note:**

> This came out of nowhere and is posted in a bit of a rush. I will check it over for errors again later on.
> 
> Once again, please don't read further if you've not finished all of the story beats, because there were some lovely bits outside the family storyline that I would hate to spoil.
> 
> (Also this is a blatant excuse to write my favourite mythical pair, so sue me.)

The braziers of the throne room make her feel the warmest she has in some time. Kassanda rubs her arms fretfully, wishing for something of the coverage of her modern clothes rather than than the simple _peplos_ she finds herself in. Gods, even her armor would be more of a comfort.

The man on the dias in front of her smiles, reaching out a hand to his wife. A part of her mind whispers that it is ridiculous to think herself here, having seen what can happen to the world in two thousand years, how secular and progressive society became in that time. She must be dreaming, in the final throes of life, before oblivion claims her as it should have millenia ago.

Hades chuckles now, as if he can hear her thoughts. “Kassandra. You act as if you are a guilty child, rather than one of humanity’s great protectors.”

She ducks her head, taking a moment to admire the obsidian floor as it sparkles beneath her simple sandals. “I fear that _dying_ has somewhat scrambled my mind. I did not expect to find myself here.”

Persephone hides a smile behind the hand she’s joined with her husband’s, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. The tender moment tugs at something deep in Kassandra’s gut, a rememberance, a lingering… hope?

To end up here, after so much life… Back where it all began. Her first years remain her best, even now. Even with all of the snatched happiness of her thousands of years, the true family and love of her homeland never left her heart.

“She does not seem to fear you, husband.” The flame-haired woman in front of her teases softly. “That is a step above most.”

“In truth, even if I considered I might find myself here one day, I did not expect a personal audience with the King and Queen.” Kassandra says, smiling now. Her comfort is growing, now that they are not cursing her and her extended life. 

It feels almost like coming home.

“I requested… no, insisted that I take this judgement upon myself.” Hades says. His gaze is warmer than she expected from such dark eyes. Everything _about_ him is not as she expected… “It felt only right that I welcome Kassandra of Sparta to her afterlife.”

“And may I ask what judgement you have cast down?” 

It feels as though it should be obvious. Charon has ferried her here, to the palace of Hades himself. Were she bound for Tartarus or the Fields of Asphodel, she hopes he would not look so pleased with himself. Mostly, she wants to believe she did enough good in life to earn a restful time of things, a reunion with those who passed--.

“Kassandra, we wish to praise you for your service to the mortals. You did all that was asked of you, and more.” Persephone says.

“Elysium awaits you, hero. Hermes Psychopompos will guide you there, by way of the Mnemosyne.”

Kassandra bows, respectfully… then pauses, lifting her chin to gaze back up at the dias. “I must not visit the Lethe?”

Hades wears a smile so broad it almost seems unnatural. Kassandra feels uncommonly like the butt of a poor joke, in the moment. “Despite my reputation even I am not so cruel as to take away memories of a life so eventful as your own. The Lethe is for those who need peace. You do not strike me as requiring such relief?”

A soft flutter of winged boots at her side brings to mind Ikaros with a fierceness that Kassandra didn’t expect. Closing her eyes against the flood of emotion she smiles properly for the first time in an age, as Hermes settles a hand on her shoulder.

“Go now, Kassandra of Sparta. Someone is waiting to greet you at the shores of Elysium.”

She follows her guide in silence, chewing on her lip as she tries to take in as much of the Underworld as she can before leaving it forever. They pass the Lethe, its banks lined with relieved faces, as Hermes gestures instead to a sparklingly clear brook a short distance away. 

She crouches to kneel beside the water, cupping her hand and bringing a mouthful to her lips. It passes down her throat, cool and refreshing, and she hums in satisfaction, shaking out her damp hand.

Kassandra rises to her feet, taking a look at the distant horizon beyond the banks of the Mnemosyne. In the golden haze that designates the border of Elysium there is a figure, faint at first, but growing more dense as it approaches. 

She frowns, something about its gait tweaking a memory in her mind. It almost feels as though she is sifting through years of silt, less pleasant remembrances fading as those of happier times come to the fore. She shields her eyes and squints, trying to see better, clearer. 

The realisation comes with such force that she stumbles forward, the toe of her sandal dipping into the water. She turns to Hermes, finding the young God smiling encouragingly at her.

“You may cross. I won’t stop you.”

The river is deeper than it appears, leaving Kassandra to wade through water that comes to mid-thigh, dampening the bottom of her skirt. But it is a mere trifle, to get closer. To confirm her eyes are not deceiving her.

“Brasidas?” She whispers, when he is close enough for her to make out. “Brasidas, is that you?”

He smiles, settling a hand on his hip as she hurries up the riverbank towards him. “All these years you made me wait, Kassandra. Have you forgotten my face?”

She laughs, ringing out the ends of her skirt. “I could never, _malakas_.”

Brasidas roars with laughter as she flies at him, twining her arms tight around his neck and feeling him hold her so close to him that it is almost difficult to breathe. He is as she remembers meeting him, handsome and alive. The trappings of age that plagued him in later years are gone.

She pulls back to admire his hair and beard free of grey, the fainter lines around his eyes. God, she had forgotten quite how striking he is. Yet no matter how much time passed, she never forgot his eyes. Bright and loving, he looks at her now as if he will never let her go again.

She knows she would not complain if he didn’t.

“I _missed_ you.” She breathes, cupping his cheek. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“My heart.” He murmurs, turning his head to kiss her palm. “What is two millennia between friends?” 

She cannot hold out any longer. With a happy sigh she leans in to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers once more. His hold on her slips, one hand moving down to her backside as the other slots between her shoulder blades. She swipes her tongue along his lower lip as little more than a formality, feeling him open to her with a grateful groan.

It is so easy to be lost with him. Lost in a way that doesn’t require saving, not when she is with Brasidas. Never again will she not be found.

When he parts from her, panting and flushed in much the same way she is, Kassandra gives a mournful sigh. She fears she will never be satisfied.

“Ah, Kassandra.” He says, stealing another brief kiss. “My love. As much as I would enjoy celebrating your return right here in front of the spirits, I promised I would bring you to your family without delay.”

Her eyes grow wide in disbelief, looking over his shoulder as if expecting more figures to appear from the mist. “They’re here too?”

Brasidas chuckles. “You expected them to be elsewhere?”

The time between standing in front of Layla at the gates of Atlantis to this moment has been so short that she hasn’t even stopped to consider. The rest of her family, here. For eternity, with her. She feels guilty, for a moment, before Brasidas links his arm with hers and starts to guide her towards Elysium.

“Come, Kassandra. We have all waited quite long enough for you.”

The mist parts as they walk, warm sunshine hitting her face. The scent of cypress and sea salt on the air makes her smile, leaning her head against Brasidas’ shoulder.

She hears Myrinne call her name.

She is home.


End file.
